Natalie
by ultrafreakyfangirl
Summary: A fic wherein Joe calls Natalie, Natalie for the first time...and the second...and the thousandth. Cutesy, smutty, and family fluff. :) (Also is anyone else annoyed that the character listing spells Natalie Nathalie? No, just me? Every time I see it I just...ugh.


**_Author's Note: So this is basically a fic – if the title is not clear about it – wherein Joe calls Natalie, Natalie, for the first – and second – and thousandth time. It's cutesy, it's a little smutty, and there's some family fluff in there too, because obviously Vanessa and Oliver as canon/head cannon Fig/Caputo children, have to make an appearance. (I love their (my) little family). Let me know what you guys think – specifically, too, if you can – I thrive on specifics! And sorry this took so long and it's also shorter than my others by a bit, so sorry for that too, but come September I'm going to be insanely busy – like work 6 days a week busy w/two jobs, so I'm not sure how much writing I'll be doing. But I'm still hoping for some! If it's something you love, you make some time for it, right? _**

**_"_****_Natalie" _**

…

When her name came from his mouth like that, almost as if it just _fell_, fell freely and ubiquitously from his lips like he'd said it every other day before this, it made her stop cold, her hands part way around her back as she fastened her bra.

"_Natalie!?_ _Jesus fucking Christ_… I'm here because you're a good lay, and I relish in the fact that you hate me, but still, can't resist me."

She readjusted herself and pulled on her jeans, and gave him a smarmy little smirk when he said _"don't worry, I still loathe you, Fig,"_ but still, she felt herself, her mind, her body, still reeling from the name he used before, the name she was born with, the name only people who knew her _intimately, personally,_ and neither of which were used with sexual intention.

Her parents, her ex-husband – sure, she had been known in the latter half of their marriage predominantly as _Mrs. Figueroa The Senator's Wife_ but still, with him, for awhile, in private, it was Natalie, or some cutesy nickname variation she pretended to loathe but secretly sort of liked.

But never with him. With him, it was just pure sex, pure mechanics. He worked with her, and sometimes she came home with him, but none of that meant that he could just start using her name like that, like they were friends, or lovers, or anything above how they used each other for sexual satisfaction.

So, why, then, when she sat down on the bed, and started to have a conversation with him, that wasn't about how hard she needed her hair to be pulled, or how dark of a mark was he allowed to leave on her skin, was she thinking about an excuse for her name to cross his lips again, and how it would feel when it did.

…

The next time he did it was unexpected as much as it wasn't.

She could still smell the old, saccharine, sticky, scent of the dive-bar and hear his voice, raspy, and accented with a few beers, singing to her, the song she hated most, but by the end, up on that stage, his hands barely touching her as they danced together, she decided it _maybe _wasn't as terrible as she'd once thought.

She was on her hands and knees and he was behind her, inside of her, and suddenly, he took her hands and held them, held them down on the bed but not spitefully; he left one hand to her for her own devices, and as she felt him moving almost erratically inside of her, she used it, knowing he was close, closer than she was.

She touched herself softly, gently, wanting to_ feel _her hand along her skin, each tingle it sparked as her fingers felt a nerve, or multiple nerves at once.

She felt him bury his face into her hair and let out this rough, sharp groan, drunken with lust, and then her name, the edges smoothed with sweat and conclusiveness. "Natalie**, **_oh, fuck_, _Natalie_, you're – _augh."_

She fell silent, her own sounds halting in the shock of it, in the moment it stole from her, one that she could never get back. He caught on. He reached his hand to where hers had been, to where it still was, and gently moved it out of the way; as he took over for her, his own hand stronger, larger, unafraid to make her lose control.

As his fingers circled her clit and pressed down with a purpose, one that was passionate but only in the way that_ passion_ meant _sex_, she cried out, and at the tip of her tongue were words. His name, his name twice, three times, his name,_**Joe**_**,** screaming out to fuck her. To **_please_**, fuck her.

…

After that, hearing him use her name to address her at any given time was as easy as breathing.

Until he spoke for her.

This little girl, this little girl with curly brown hair and equally adorable brown eyes that reminded her of an unsuspecting, loping, deer, of fucking Bambi; this little girl with a toothy smile and a small, sweet mouth, this little girl who used that _small, sweet mouth_ to sing about dope and drugs; this little girl who said _she liked her dress,_ with this innocence that before she might have found horribly insipid and typical but now she finds absolutely endearing.

She introduced herself as _Vanessa_, as in Vanessa Lachey, or Vanessa Carlton, maybe even Vanessa Hudgens, but somehow, Natalie found it hard to believe that this little girl would be at all into _High School Musical. _

Joe introduced himself as normal, and that was all fine and good, but then he gestured, fucking gestured over to her and said_, _"and this is Natalie."

Nobody'd ever had the balls to speak for her like that, and it could have been because as a kid, and as a teenager, even as a full-grown adult, she would glare at people if they tried, _glare_ as if her life depended on it.

She was her own person, with her own brain and her own sense of self, who didn't need anybody to take that from her, or to _take care of her,_ as it were. By the time she was three years old, she was ordering her own food at restaurants, even if it took centuries to get the word _lemonade _to sound remotely like it should.

So, when Joe introduced her to Vanessa like that, her instincts were screaming at her, and she had every right to glare, or even better yet, punch him in the throat, but she didn't. And it's not that she had to _restrain herself _because they were in a public place filled with children and watchful eyes of social workers who were scoping out potential foster parent-child matchups, although they _were_, it was that she didn'_t want_ to.

She didn't mind that he was speaking for her this time. She had a feeling that he wouldn't mind if she were to say _"and this is Joe"_ instead and at another time, because it would be just as easy as saying _"and this is Joe, my boyfriend_" even though people their age as a trope don't use those labels specifically, but she didn't really fucking care.

Honestly, now that she was comfortable with it, she kind of loved being _"Natalie, my girlfriend" _at random chain restaurants, or late at night at those hole-in-the-wall dive bars. It lit her up in ways she couldn't even admit to herself.

…

She was sitting on the couch, legs tucked under her as she flipped mindlessly through television channels. Joe was at the grocery store, picking up some last-minute things for their dinner that night, and Vanessa was on the floor in front of the fireplace, with Oliver next to her.

Her gaze got stuck on him for a second, her _baby boy_ who was now her _little boy_ at just shy of two years old. His hair had evolved into a mess of curls that were matted in that typical, unkempt, _boy _way, not to generify the kid, and he had those god damn puppy dog eyes that may have been tolerable on his _Daddy_, but on Oliver, they were a temptation.

It was impossible to say no, it's as if the word doesn't exist when he tilts his head a certain way and bats those eyes like _a fucking high school sophomore_. Now, it really didn't help that he had a master silver-tongued manipulator for a _Mommy._

Now, Oliver stopped helping his little sister build the Leaning Tower of Pisa out of Legos and stared at her. He had drool on his shirt, a white one with green and blue stripes that Joe had picked out – no wonder, because it was _really fucking ugly_ actually, and spittle on his lips.

He pointed at her with an oddly authoritative feel, but with two one-time prison warden's as parents, it was bound to rub of on their kids, and it wouldn't be up to her to stop it from happening. In this _fucking shit-show_ of a world, kids without a backbone are the first ones _to – well – you know._ She didn't want to think about it. Couldn't.

"Natalie."

Vanessa looked up from the blocks to stare at him. Then at her. There was a hint of a smile on her lips, and before Natalie could tell her _"don't you dare"_ she was laughing.

"Oh my god, Mom, did you hear that? He called you_ Natalie_."

It made her smile, too, to hear the not-so-subtle awkwardness within Vanessa's tone when saying her name. She'd been _Mommy,_ and then _Mom, _to her for so long now, for almost five years, that being anything else just seemed _wrong._

Vanessa tapped her brother on the shoulder, and in response to being touched, Oliver turned towards her.

"Ollie, what's my name?"

Oliver scrunched up his face in thought before his eyes brightened. He pointed at her, as if to prove his confidence in his answer. "Nessa!"

Vanessa smiled, and so did Natalie. It was the cutest thing. She couldn't help it.

"Yes! Okay, now what's her name?" Vanessa pointed to Natalie now.

Natalie gave him a cheesy grin and clapped her hands together. She mouthed _Mommy _for good measure.

"Natalie!"

"No, Ollie. _Mommy_. That's Mommy."

Natalie put her head in her hands. _"Shit,"_ she mumbled to herself. Then to her daughter, "Ness, where do you think he picked that up from? Obviously not from you, or me."

Vanessa shrugged. "Maybe Dad?"

"_Hm_…maybe."

"But – "

Vanessa contested with a cute little smirk. _Oh, no._ She's known her daughter long enough now, and with _that smile_ she may as well have birthed her, because it was so much like her own _cut-throat_ expression that it was startling.

"If he'd gotten it from Dad, he'd be calling you _sweet cheeks_."

"_Oh, _Vanessa. Stop it, you," Natalie said, feeling her face get hot, though she couldn't help but chuckle a little. He was _such a dork._ And he was also a self-proclaimed _ass-man._

She looked down at her hand, at her fingers, unpainted still, as they'd been since Oliver was born, and then at her ring.

_"__Two kids and a dog, babe. We're as good as married. Besides, between you and me, marriage is just a bullshit piece of paper."_

_"__Wow, jaded much?" _

_"__Says the woman with a gay ex-husband." _

Oliver laughed, an adorable, piddling giggle, and waded over to her, grabbing onto her knees and trying to pull himself up onto the couch. "Mommy!"

"Oh thank god," Natalie mumbled, grabbing a hold of her son by the armpits and hoisting him up onto her lap.

"You wanna sit with me, bub? Huh?" she asked, tickling under his drippy, little chin. "You wanna sit with Mommy?"

"Look out, I'm coming in hot," Vanessa told her, taking a seat next to her on the couch and a little rougher than she'd been expecting, as the cushion moved underneath them.

"Yeah, you weren't kidding there, were you?" Natalie said to her, kissing her softly on the head.

Vanessa looked up at her, eyes shining. "Am I ever?"

Natalie smiled at her. "You're just like your Momma babe. And keep it that way. I'm still praying every night that this little ragamuffin doesn't end up like your dad," she joked, but in all fairness to Joe, if Oliver were to be anything like him, he was going to be a great kid.

"Did you just say _ragamuffin_?" Joe asked, closing the front door behind him and taking off his jacket in the same breath.

"No," Natalie said immediately, reaching up to stroke his knuckles affectionately as he ran his fingers through the hair on her scalp. "Of course I didn't. That's a dumb word."

"Okay, I'll believe you, this time," he said, coming around to the front of the couch to see them all sitting there. "What's this? And why wasn't I invited?"

"_Oh_ _come here_."

She grabbed him by the arm and moved over to her right, as Vanessa moved to her left to make room for him in the middle. Joe took his spot willingly and happily, and she squeaked when he grabbed playfully and discreetly at her ass.

She may have left it in his space for longer than she absolutely needed to in order to shuffle over, but she'd never admit it. Sex hasn't been as frequent as she would like. So, grab-ass (and _seriously, wherever _she could get it) would have to do.

"Hey there, sweet cheeks," he murmured seductively into her ear. "Are you gonna send me to the SHU for coping a feel, _CO Figueroa?" _

"Yeah, no, babe. I told you I didn't kink that way the last time, remember?" she whispered.

"Right," he said, kissing her cheek and ruffling Oliver's curls, and Vanessa's with the other hand. "Sorry."

They'd been trying roleplay for a few weeks now, because they were admittedly turning into the vanilla couple Taystee had thought they'd been before Oliver was born. The mediocre and not-often sex was putting the both of them in moods, so they needed something to revive it. With Natalie's post-c-section body, not _that it isn't sexy,_ Joe had assured her again and again, bending her over things, like that desk in her office that was once a saving grace for them sexually, was becoming less and less of an option.

"Sorry for what?" Vanessa asked and Joe's ears went red.

"Sorry for not picking up milk on the way home, Ness," he told her with a faux sheepish look.

Vanessa shrugged. "That's okay. We don't have any cereal anyway."

Natalie couldn't help but laugh.

"Natalie!" Joe scolded her, but he was smiling. "Why is that funny?"

He of course, knew why it was funny. _Nice save, babe._

Oliver climbed over her lap in that moment to sit on Joe's and Joe kissed his head and took him without a complaint. "Hey there, little bruiser. You're lucky you've got all that hair. I had some, too. When I was your age."

Natalie snickered. "Yeah, and you lost it all after your tenth birthday."

Joe glowered at her, albeit jokingly. "Natalie, I swear to god." He hit her arm. "You know I'm sensitive about my lack of hair."

"Hey, now, you brought it up," she said, and he leaned over to kiss her on the head.

"Yeah, that'll teach me."

"Natalie!" A little voice piped up_. Oliver._

This time they all just laughed. It _was_ kind of funny. Just as long as they could get him to say _Mommy_ again just as quickly and in front of strangers and his daycare teacher.

* * *

**_Author's Note: So? Tell me what you think! :) What was your favorite part? I got the idea from 3x13 - "Natalie!? Jesus fucking Christ" Also, if you couldn't tell, the smutty scene was written as if it was the missing sex scene from 6x07 - what went on after their date? ;) _**


End file.
